Working Full Tilt
by Detouredbe
Summary: The title is taken from the 1972 TV adaptation of "The Lorax", but the setting is the 2012 film version. 'Tis simply a look into an AU where the animals actively work to preserve their forest, while at the same time helping their human friend fulfill his ambitions.
1. Chapter 1

**I'll be blunt and start off with the question which fueled this idea by burning my mind: Am I the only one who thinks the animals of the forest could have done something, themselves, to help the Lorax in his cause? It _is_ their home, after all, and they so clearly possess the cognitive potential to take on a much more proactive role than they did. Granted, as an uncle of mine used to say, "The story has to happen," but one of the main functions of a fandom is to allow for deviations in any direction you want. We fans can wipe our brows in gratitude for that!**

**Like a lot of writers, on a lot of subjects, I've mentally reached the end of this idea before having fully built up to it, and am still paving the road leading to that point. It basically concerns the animals, starting with Pipsqueak (logically enough), realizing they could help find a happy medium in the midst of the conflict between the goals of the Lorax and the Once-ler; thus, they begin searching for a diplomatic negotiation. Right now I intend to portray one approach per chapter, so not knowing how many of these approaches there will be, before they reach their solution at the end, I can't really say how long this is going to be, nor how long its completion will take.  
**

**In any case, copyrights are those of Dr. Seuss, Universal and Illumination Entertainment.**

"They're chopping the trees again?" Pipsqueak couldn't believe it. "But I thought he said he wouldn't anymore!"

Together with his playmates he had been observing these past few minutes as the Once-ler's brothers began hacking away at the Truffula trees, all the while the Lorax underwent an admittedly comical failed attempt to intervene.

The little Swomee cygnet, Bill,* fluttered over to the Once-ler's tent, in an effort to pick up more details on the sudden change in policy. His tendency to play dumb through expression, though in considerable part valid, was to a degree a self-cultivated tactic for picking up tidbits others might not say around someone who looked keener witted. Of course, with the Once-ler there was the advantage of his moderate skepticism towards the animals' ability to understand what he said; some of the trivial details they'd all learned about him by now were quite surprising.

"Well, what's going on?" Pipsqueak asked when the cygnet returned.

The baby bird shrugged. "Something about his mum being happy."*

This confused both Pipsqueak and the baby Humming fish, Gil. In their experience happiness was the last thing a mother felt about her offspring breaking promises, but then, the Once-ler's mother, as well as the rest of his family, _had_ evoked a rather unsavoury feeling in all of the animals to-date.

Well, whatever was the reason behind his recalling on his word, the animals soon forgot about it as the Once-ler stepped out with his guitar, playfully singing and dancing around with it for them – or at least, welcoming them into the performance. This song he was playing was fun and quite funny, something about doing what came naturally. Pipsqueak didn't focus so much on the lyrics as he did on his own dancing, but he assumed the human must be bragging about his guitar-playing skills or something like that. What came more naturally to him?

That night, however, the Lorax gathered the animals together, to warn them all of what might happen if too many of the trees were cut down. When some of the animals scoffed at the idea that the Once-ler's family would ever push things so far, he assured them in a grim tone that humans, when bitten by greed, were effectively masters at the art of blinding themselves to or overriding anything which opposed the fulfillment of their goals.

Pipsqueak was certain the Once-ler would not let things get out of hand, but he also knew the Lorax was upset over that broken promise, which was that strictly _no_ more trees would be chopped after that first one. He wished the Once-ler could understand what the animals said to him; maybe if the Lorax couldn't persuade him to honour his commitment, he could?

A wheel shifted in the cub's mind. Wait a moment! When the Once-ler did make that promise, that night, it had been after making eye contact with Pipsqueak for several seconds. The cub unabashedly used his adorable charm to tug on the man's heartstrings, and it apparently worked. Well, maybe all he had to do was go and remind him, no exchange of words required? Yes, that's what he'd do! But in the morning, he knew the Once-ler got very grouchy about being disturbed when he was sleeping.

/

A bit groggily, the Once-ler began his ascent up the ladder to the outhouse on the side of his elaborate tent. Not yet fully awake, but able to comprehend the most basic of actions, he undid his fly when inside, and began to reduce the fluid count of his body.

Pipsqueak, meanwhile, followed his friend up that ladder, having awoken first thing that morning to await the engagement of his mission. Inside, he made his way over and scrambled up onto the bench, wanting to elevate himself so as to better secure the Once-ler's attention. Paws behind his back, he waited patiently, watching the man tend to his biological obligations. Someone must have been really thirsty last night.

As always, Pipsqueak thought the systems the Once-ler had for doing the simplest of things both strange and funny. A lot of them seemed unnecessarily complex, but that made them all the more interesting. So interesting, in fact, that Pipsqueak wanted to give it a shot, ahem, and see what it was like to do this like a human. Like the Once-ler, specifically.

The human was a little less sleepy-headed than he was before, but his lids hadn't really lost weight yet. Glancing over at the little Bar-ba-loot cub who, standing on the side, was now merging his "procedure" with his own, he smiled fondly, before turning his focus back onto the job at hand.

That's when he finally snapped awake.

Yelping, he jumped back, haplessly evolving his startled leap into a startling trip down the ladder. It could have ended much worse than it did, however, and he certainly was glad that none of his family had been outside to utter any wisecracks about him still needing proper training or anything like that.

Aligning his pajamas back into a more acceptable arrangement, he looked up at Pipsqueak, now staring down at him from the edge of the outhouse with a face full of "I'm sorries".

"Ugh, Pipsqueak! Remember when I told Moustache that sleep time is a time to leave people alone?"

Pipsqueak nodded. That was after that first night they all spent together! That had been so much fun!

"Well, the same goes for when someone's... you know, taking care of business!"

Pipsqueak loved the animated motions the Once-ler made with his hands when he was speaking, but use of the word "business", which sprang up from time to time whenever the Once-ler was involved in talk about the trees, or was mentioning that funny thing he'd made from the one he chopped, reminded Pipsqueak of what he was here to do.

Sliding down the side of the ladder, he waddled over to the human, grabbing his paw and tugging with all the strength he could muster.

"Whoa – okay, okay what's this all about?" the Once-ler inquired, amazed that the cub actually managed to pull him over into a position primed for being dragged along the ground, though thankfully that was as far as the endeavour went. When the little cub let go of his hand and scampered a few feet away, pausing to look back at him and urge him to follow, the man complied out of curiosity.

Pipsqueak lead him over to the stump of that first tree, which was still encircled by the stones the Lorax and the animals had placed around it during its funeral. Climbing up onto the stump, he faced the Once-ler and sat back down, donning a baby face which could frost 500 cakes.

"Um, _okay_ – I have no idea what you're doing, Pipsqueak."

Frowning a bit, Pipsqueak tried again. Looking down at the stump, he patted it with his paw, looking hopefully back at the human.

All he got was a quiet chuckle and a reply of, "Well as flattered as I am that you think so, I don't think that stump could seat _both_ of us at the same time!" Though of course, if brought up the human would agree, his posterior was most definitely one to be envied.

Alright, now that language barrier was rearing its ugly head again. Deciding to try the sign language approach, Pipsqueak got up and attempted to imitate the motion of a human chopping a tree with an axe. The result was a clumsy pirouette and a tumble off the side of the tree stump. It didn't hurt the cub, thank goodness, but it also failed to deliver the intended message.

"Hey, you okay, little guy?" The Once-ler picked him up and checked him over lovingly. Okay, maybe now he had him; Pipsqueak tried again. Putting on a mopey expression every bit as cute as that first one, he stared up into the Once-ler's face, ensuring eye contact.

After a moment, the man smiled. "Of course, I know what you're after!" Tickling the cub's tummy, he rose to his feet and said, "I don't have any on me right now, but there's a bunch of them inside. Let's get first dibs before everyone's up!"

Well no, marshmallows weren't the initial aim behind all this, but who was Pipsqueak to complain about an offer like that? As the pair made their way indoors, he decided this just wasn't the right time to make his point.

**AN: It's painfully clear that approach wouldn't work anyway. As I reminded myself to elaborate by way of asterisk: **

**1\. When I originally posted this chapter, I did not know whether or not the baby cygnet and the baby humming fish had canonical names, and thus I tagged them with random monikers until further notice. Several weeks later I discovered an online copy of the film's script, which identified them with these names, so I promised myself I would make the necessary adjustments for accuracy the next time I brought these characters into a prominent role in the story. I would also like to thank Bellechat, who first informed me that canonical names had in fact been provided to the characters!  
**

**2\. I improvised a bit on the length of time it took for the Once-ler to go from voicing his justifications to heading outside and starting off the song, "How Bad Can I Be?"; for this story he needs to have remarked on the response he anticipates from his mother, as that's going to play a part in the animals' efforts soon.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, in spite of the hassles standard to the heart of the Christmas season, I managed to get this chapter done before the year was out. Herein, Pipsqueak begins to wonder if the Once-ler is really the right target for protest, after all.**

Seeing as his efforts to persuade the Once-ler weren't going to go anywhere, Pipsqueak knew he'd need to come up with something else, and fast. Since the man's family had started work for the day, more trees than the cub could count had already been felled, and the Lorax was beside himself. It was nearing noon, when they'd be taking their lunch break, and so far Plan B could only dream of someday reaching its embryonic stage.

"What do you think, Lou?" Pipsqueak asked his best friend. The little cub was an extrovert with a wealth of friends of all ages, but for some reason he tended to prefer the company of adults.

Although Pipsqueak had been watching the human "camp"'s goings-on from atop one of the still unchopped trees near the setup, Lou had been more focused on munching on the tree's wares, and so took a moment to realize his pal had inquired something of him.

"Hmm?" Was all he could reply, so stuffed was his mouth.

"About the Once-ler's folks." Pipsqueak clarified.

Confused, the older Bar-ba-loot responded, when he was able, "Uh, sorry, I wasn't thinking anything about them. I was wishing these seeds were more like those marshmallows." He glanced down at a few he'd spat out while devouring their sweet, juicy encasements.

Though it risked straying from the topic he wanted to explore, Pipsqueak had to agree, that would be the new definition of a perfect world.* "No Lou, I was just thinking; it's not actually the Once-ler chopping these trees down. It's just them!" He pointed to where the others were whacking away at the trunks of the precious trees with an almost maniacal fervency.

It was true, the Once-ler had not, at least as far as anyone had seen, wielded an axe against one of the trees since he'd given the green light on the matter to his kin the day before. Since breakfast, he'd mostly become one with his knitting, a little with reviewing the weird drawings he'd made on that blue paper, and here and there a few routine chores. With the exception of Pipsqueak's failed intervention that morning, had the Once-ler even been outside today?

"Oh good!" Lou remarked happily, now watching them with Pipsqueak. "That must mean he didn't break his promise after all!" As though to celebrate, he went back to eating.

The little cub ate some of the fruit as well, but continued his vigil, certain that there was some important note to draw from this observance, but not quite sure what it was. As if on cue, the sound of tension expressed in vocal form began to rise from inside the nearby tent of the Once-ler's. In a moment it was easy to distinguish the voices of the man and the Lorax, although most of the dialogue was muffled by distance and closure of the surrounding atmosphere. It made Pipsqueak unhappy to hear what he could hear of it; he loved both the Once-ler and the Lorax, and much preferred it when they were getting along – or doing what _counted_ as getting along for them.

However long it went on for, the argument was cut short when one of the Once-ler's hands reached out the window in a beckoning gesture, accompanied by his voice calling in a sing-song way for his Aunt Grizelda.

A lot of funny names in that family, weren't there? Seeing who came to the windowside at his request, Pipsqueak shuddered. So Grizelda was that big scary one the Lorax kept confusing for a man. Pipsqueak didn't know why, it wasn't that hard to smell the difference between males and females, even with all that funny scented stuff they smothered themselves with.*

Now the Lorax was slipping out of the tent by way of another window altogether, gruffly dismissing himself. No wonder. Sailing through the air like one of the swans for a while had an undeniable thrill, but sometimes the landing just wasn't worth it.

/

Pipsqueak stared longingly at the human family, eating lunch together on their break. Humans always had such nifty things to eat, but that intangible _something_ about these people had so far kept him from trying to siphon any tidbits from them, like he would from the Once-ler. Speaking of which, said man was yet again inside at the moment. If he could just slip by them... well of course, that was unnecessary! There were lots of ways into the tent! How silly of him to let all this hard thinking lead him astray like that!

Inside, he found the Once-ler preparing some yellow-coloured liquid, crammed with ice cubes, in a jug. A very fresh aroma, different from Truffula fruit and yet of a faintly similar essence, filled the area and immediately vanquished any dark feelings those other humans had evoked in the cub.

Pipsqueak wandered casually over beside the man, and tugged on his trouser leg. Alerted, the Once-ler looked down at the cub, then smiled.

"Oh hey, Pipsqueak," he said, bending over and lifting the little one up onto the counter. "Wanna help me make this lemonade, huh?" Twiddling the cub's nose, he went on with his assumption, stating, "I don't know if Mom would care for that, little buddy. _But_," he deliberated, holding a finger up in a request for the cub to bear with him, "the Royal Chef _could_ perhaps use the help of a steward, to keep his reputation from going on the line. So to speak!" Picking up one of the cups generally used by the Humming fish – certain Pipsqueak wouldn't care either way – he poured up a portion of the liquid and extended it to his little friend. "How about it?"

Mmm, this drink smelled good! Pipsqueak immediately accepted it and began his "taste test".

"I thought you'd like the job!" The Once-ler smiled, satisfied. Watching the liquid disappear into the cub, who promptly licked his lips and held the cup out, he laughed. "I take it I've passed inspection. Alright, one more," he continued his playful tone, pouring a little bit more into the cup, before patting Pipsqueak and quickly making his way out to his family, a safeguard to ensure a sufficient quantity of the drink actually made it to them.

As Pipsqueak slurped his second helping of the yummy drink, it finally dawned on him. All this time the Lorax had been calling the _Once-ler_ out for breaking his promise, when it was his _family_ doing all the chopping! If anyone needed to be reasoned with, it was them! It seemed kind of funny, that a being so old and wise would go after the wrong party like that. Well, now that Pipsqueak had the problem de-tangled, it was just a matter of finding the forest guardian and running this by him.

Finishing the lemonade, he snuck down from the counter and waddled his way over to the door, which it seemed the Once-ler had thoughtfully left open for him. The sound of a moderate ruckus close at hand made him turn his gaze in the direction of the humans, and he gasped upon seeing one of the Once-ler's brothers feverishly juggling several dreadfully dizzy-looking Humming fish, while the other cheered him on with a matching excitement. The Once-ler was cautiously trying to dissuade them from this cruel practice, while the older members of the family looked to be taking an unnervingly passive stance on the matter.

Pipsqueak was horrified by the sight. The poor fish were so unhappy, and no wonder! The twins were now playing an extremely rapid toss-and-exchange game with the fish; face to face, their hands together formed a rectangular current for their scaled quarries, with terrifying alacrity. Although the Once-ler was now begging them to stop, it appeared he was afraid to go any closer than a foot or so away from them. Pipsqueak didn't blame the man; being their brother he guessed that he had a lot more experience with their rough-playing than any of the forest creatures.

Well, as scary as they were, he couldn't just stand by and do nothing, could he? Swallowing his nervousness, Pipsqueak crept over towards them, trying to think of some distraction he could give, without getting himself hurt in the process. Then, all of a sudden, one of the women – their mother – sat upright in the chair she'd been lounging in hitherto, and called rather sharply at her sons to stop playing and get back to work. To his relief, they did stop, although replacing the fish on the ground proved no kinder a gesture than their idea of playing.

"You guys okay?" Pipsqueak asked, rushing over to the fish once there were no human feet in their proximity.

Groaning, one of them answered, gazing upward, "Oh gee, I never knew the sky could be so... _swirly_!"

Pipsqueak's concern for his friends had to be put on hold in a moment, however, when the pounding of those bullying men's feet on either side of their little group brought him to realize that the tree-hacking was about to start up again. Acting on sheer spur-of-the-moment, he ran after the men, yelling at them to stop as loud as he could. If they couldn't understand his language, they could at least pick up on the emotion, right?

Without really considering what he was doing, the cub scampered up the trunk of a tree just seconds away from being struck by a blade. Luckily, he was several inches above where it was to meet its mark; perish the thought of what might have happened otherwise... Still running on adrenaline, the cub leaped down onto the axe, scurrying along till he was perched atop the wrists of its wielder, whereupon he began to tug and paw at the man's fingers, doing whatever he could to undo that grasp on the lethal tool. The entire time, his frantic wailing and hollering never stopped for even a moment's breath.

If nothing else, this impressive act of berserkery did succeed in delaying the twins' tree-cutting progress. Neither the one Pipsqueak was trying desperately to pry the axe from nor the other were able to do more than stare, mouths agape, project long forgotten.*

He was too focused on what he was doing to hear the mother calling out to someone to get the "bear" out of the way, seeing as he was holding them up.* He only vaguely recognized the gentle, elegant hands which wrapped around him shortly after. He continued screaming, pawing in the direction of the Once-ler's brothers, furiously ranting demanding words the humans would never know he was directing at them, all the while the only one of them who seemed even moderately decent carried him out of their reach, and away into one of the shaded groves nearby.

**AN: In all truth, this chapter ended a lot more dramatically than I expected, but it just seemed right to put the stop sign there. So as of this chapter, we can rule out the "Tie yourself to a tree trunk approach" as the one that's going to prove effective. In other news, it's still unwise to stare directly at the sun. Cue the typical list of explanatory notes:  
**

**1\. The only problem with marshmallows and Truffula seeds being synonymous is, if that were the case, between the Once-ler's and the animals' appetites for them, no new trees would EVER get planted!**

**2\. Since Bar-ba-loots resemble flesh-and-blood teddy bears, I'm figuring they'd be likely to have very competent olfactory senses like real bears.**

**3\. If only we could draw from this that Pipsqueak has achieved even a modicum of success, at least when influencing Brett and Chet. If not, at least he bought a modicum of time for the trees in that immediate area...**

**4\. When I was writing this, it reminded me of a line from one of the most iconic scenes in the Disney film, _The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh_. Most likely the Once-ler's mother vs. Gopher from that franchise is not a character comparison most would think of, but that's what I actually like best about the way I worded that sentence!**

**Last but not least, I would like to thank Sixty-four K for their kind review of the first chapter. It's a bit surprising that this premise has not had more exploration, but then, what more motive is needed to fill in the void? :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**I am so glad I finally got this chapter finished. It was a little difficult to convince myself, for a while there, that the characters were true to themselves, but I think I've got it. Now Pipsqueak is finally going to talk things over with the Lorax, but he's in for a couple of surprises along the way.**

By the time the Once-ler had carried Pipsqueak a satisfactory distance from his family's work zone, the baby Bar-ba-loot was finding it very hard not to cry. Mostly, this was out of a shock to his system, understandable when considering how unprecedented his impassioned behaviour from moments ago was.

The man knelt down and set the cub on the soft grass, stroking his head gently. "You okay, buddy?"

Watery-eyed and trying to regulate his presently overactive respiratory system, the cub looked back at him. With what the Once-ler had just witnessed Pipsqueak doing, maybe now he could get the message that he didn't want this tree-cutting to go on any more than the Lorax did. Pointing back in the direction they'd come from, where it was still easy to see the mortifying sight of Truffula trees crashing over even from this far away, he whimpered and crept over to his friend's lap, wrapping his paws around a thigh and glancing up pleadingly.

The man bit his lower lip, brows furrowed in a concerned manner. Just when it seemed he was impossibly out of touch, his gaze softened, and he said, "Aw look, don't go all crazy about the trees like old Moustache. It's _okay_, I mean we're not planning on chopping the whole forest down!" He motioned around the two of them for effect. "We're just... we just need to cut a _few_ down. It's all simply a matter of business, Pipsqueak." The man shrugged.

The more involved Pipsqueak became in this debate on deforestation, the more he was coming to resent that word, "business", which seemed to define what was behind all this conflict. He couldn't say this to the Once-ler in a way he'd comprehend, so he summarized his feelings with a frown.

"Look, I'm not expecting you to get the whole scope of this, but I'm on the verge of making it big time, you know?" He stood up as he continued. "I mean, this is what I came here to do, in the first place! And all my work's finally starting to pay off! People are ordering thneeds faster than we can make them! Just look what they've paid in advance!" Caught up in his excitement, the Once-ler drew out a large bundle of cash he was keeping on him out of sheer pride. "_This_, this just happens to be the most I've ever made in only five minutes, Pipsqueak! And it's not going to stop there, either! Now if I'm being realistic about it, it's _probably_ going to take a few months at the very least, but by then I'll have enough saved to start on -"

A jaded expression came over the little cub's face as he watched his friend prattle on and on about his plans for getting his business to take flight. There was some quality about his whole demeanour which had gradually made itself known, as he was talking; something which put Pipsqueak at ill ease. He wasn't sure if it was a change in the way the Once-ler's eyes gleamed, or if it was something in the way he was smiling or the tone of his voice, but for the time being it was not hard, even with similarity of scent out of the equation, to draw a familial connection between this man and his relatives.

Unable to take it any more, Pipsqueak squealed and jerked on the man's trousers, as if to shake off this strange side to him and summon back the man he loved and trusted so much. To his relief, the Once-ler did snap out of it. Looking back down at the Bar-ba-loot, he shrugged again, and said, "Anyhow, case in point, we just can't afford not to pick the pace up. I mean, what do you expect me to do?" He wished the cub would not look at him like that, for it made him feel as though he were speaking to -

"I can _not_ be seeing this!"

Perfect timing. Right on cue.

Both the Once-ler and Pipsqueak turned to face the Lorax, one groaning in dread of another time-consuming protest/lecture, the other grateful, after that spine-tingling moment, that a familiar and comforting presence was here.

"Hello, Moustache," the Once-ler said in a low, annoyed tone.

Arms folded, the forest guardian ignored the hollow greeting and stated his point, "So breaking your promise wasn't enough, huh? Now you're actually trying to brainwash the animals into going along and accepting all your 'important business big-wig garbage'?"

Shocked at the accusation, the man replied, "What? No! Why would I want to brainwash anyone – look, all I did was try to explain to him why - and hey, for that matter it is NOT garbage -"

He was interrupted when Pipsqueak suddenly ran over to the Lorax, excitedly garbling something. Whatever it was about, the Lorax answered in a scolding manner, "I'll get to _you_ later, Pipsqueak." Maybe he knew about how Pipsqueak almost got himself axed a short while ago. He was now focusing on the Once-ler again, glaring as he said, "As for you -"

Oh, here it was. That awful yada-yada about no tree-chopping and preserving nature, and his business being no good. Well not this time. He had a breaking point, and he'd be damned if he'd let the orange creature push him to it. So saying, he told him to "save it", and abruptly left the scene.

Pipsqueak, meanwhile, tried to engage the Lorax's attention again, for although he sensed that there was a huge lecture in store for him as well, he also had to get it through to the being that he was after the wrong person on the tree-cutting deal. To his frustration the Lorax didn't even pay him any regard this time, instead dogmatically chasing after the Once-ler until they were both out of hearing range. The cub scowled with impatience, wondering whether it would be better to follow after the guardian or to wait here for him to come back.

"Hey, Pipsqueak?"

The cub was drawn out of his options review when he heard his name called. The fish he'd tried to rescue were approaching him, wearing utterly impressed expressions.

"Thanks for trying to help us back there!"

"Yeah, and the trees. You were awesome, kid!"

"Yeah, the Lorax should have seen you, you were great!"

Still a bit overwhelmed by the event, Pipsqueak could hardly do more than blush as they hummed his praise, but at the mention of the Lorax his face fell a bit. "I think he already knows, actually. He wasn't very happy about it either." Talk about this event inspired him to relate to the fish about what he'd been learning about the situation so far, and how he hoped to persuade the Lorax when he returned to lecture him. After all, postponing his revelation as long as he had had allowed his excitement to grow to the point where he was busting at the seams, and as an afterthought it might be kind of helpful to have some backup in case he couldn't get the ancient being to listen.

/

If Pipsqueak had never felt like a complete failure before, he did now. There was no way around it, that was just the automatic effect on one's self esteem when this sort of thing – going from feeling like you've lead a major problem right to the door of resolution, only to find the person metaphorically expected to open the door won't answer your knock – happened. Was this how the Once-ler felt when that thneed thing of his didn't take off at the start? Poor guy.

The cub still didn't understand exactly what the Lorax saw wrong with the change of approach, as he'd outlined it. It seemed so simple to the cub: When a certain party is causing a problem, they are the ones you have to make stop. Not another party you already got to stop, who has not in fact started up again. Yet according to old Uncle Lorax, there was more to it than that.

There was nothing surprising about the fury the Lorax exhibited when he finally confronted Pipsqueak about the danger he'd placed himself in earlier; although Pipsqueak couldn't read, it essentially might as well have been carved in stone that that was going to happen. If he wasn't such a good little cub at heart, he might even have been amused at the way Uncle Lorax's temper had short-circuited – particularly during his rant about "waltzing into the midst of those axe-happy yokels" - but knowing that beneath that anger was extreme disappointment only made him feel ashamed.

That was, of course, until after he'd obediently bided the course of the reprimand, and then presented his piece. The fish had held approving opinions on the suggestion, and obviously Pipsqueak thought it one of the best ideas he'd ever had, but what did Uncle Lorax have to say on it?

"Pip," he'd sighed, "I'm glad you wanna help, really, but there's a lot to the situation you don't understand."

That was it? No "Gee, Pipsqueak, you're a genius, kid! Can't believe I didn't think of that!", or anything? Not even being re-designated as an Honourary Lorax? Wait, he was supposed to not want that, though he couldn't completely recall why.*

"But, what else is there, Uncle Lorax?" Pipsqueak asked him. "He's not chopping the trees, they are!"

"Yeah, but they wouldn't be if he hadn't let them, okay?"

"But you're the one in charge of the trees; don't you have more say than the Once-ler?"

The Lorax took a deep breath, working out how best to relate this to the young Bar-ba-loot. "Alright, it goes like this, Pipsqueak. You've seen what happens when I try to talk to his relatives, right?"

Actually, aside from the Once-ler, the only one of them Pipsqueak had seen Uncle Lorax speak directly to was Aunt Grizelda. In spite of himself, the memory of the Flying Lorax episode brought a series of happy quakes over his figure.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. 'Uncle Lorax being used to score a home run' is the most hilarious thing you've ever seen!" The Lorax rolled his eyes.

Well, maybe not the most hilarious thing, but it would earn a respectable position on the list. "But what about the others? The Once-ler's brothers do more chopping than any of the rest of them!"

"Uh-huh, and aside from hacking at the trunks of Truffulas like they're jungle vines, what else have they come to be known in this forest for?" The Lorax stared pointedly at Pipsqueak, waiting for him to draw the parallels.

The cub did not take long to do so. Similarly to their aunt, those men played rough in the extreme – actually, it was even worse with them; they'd do it without provocation and for fun, not just to emphasize a point. Of all the tendencies to run in a family...

However, he pointed out that that still left the Once-ler's mother and his uncle, but the Lorax considered them to be no more likely prospects than their ilk. He explained to Pipsqueak that from what he'd observed of them, the Once-ler's uncle, though arguably the "nice one" of the group, was also weak-natured and submissive where the family was concerned. A lot like his nephew, though the guardian didn't say this out loud.* And his mother was the one who'd driven the Once-ler to give a thumbs-up on cutting down the trees again; she was, if possible, even more money-hungry and shortsighted than her son. On top of that, her temper obviously never got a growth spurt.

Pipsqueak was still reluctant to budge from the optimistic outlook he had over this concept. He knew the Once-ler's temper was far from inexhaustible, but it also wasn't hard to establish a rapport with him. Surely the same could be done with his mother if they played their cards right? And even if the tree-chopping _was_ happening at her son's beck and call, if he was only allowing it, in turn, for her, then all they had to do was convince her of how bad this was! Then she'd tell him she changed her mind, and by all logic he'd change his mind as well!

The Lorax kept trying to interject as Pipsqueak went on elaborating this adjustment to his idea, but when he started to say, "And just to make sure, we could _all_ go talk to her, like we did with him, and then she'd -"

"_ENOUGH_, Pipsqueak!"

Stunned into silence, the cub waited. After a pause, the Lorax went on, "That ain't gonna happen, now or ever. I made it plain as day for Beanpole, and I'm making it plain as day for you, no one, but me, is going near these humans any more. Understand?"

Pipsqueak's jaw forgot how it was supposed to be aligned. These humans? But that couldn't... that just couldn't include...

"Including him, kid. He's not gonna approach you or the others, and you sure as heck ain't gonna approach him. Or them," he added to really stress his seriousness.

Almost inaudibly, Pipsqueak whispered, "But Uncle Lorax -"

"Forget it, kid," the guardian said, not quite so severely but still firm. "Don't get me wrong, I _am_ proud that you want to take a stand, but I'm just as much in charge of you and the other animals as I am for the trees, and frankly it doesn't look good for a forest guardian to let his charges get sliced up and bludgeoned trying to do his work for him."

Crestfallen, that was the word for Pipsqueak's mood now. A disappointed guardian, an unresolved conflict that seemed on the brink of relief just minutes ago, and now on top of it all he wasn't even allowed to see his friend anymore.

Although the Lorax felt bad for the cub, his mind was made up; his safety had to come first. Therefore, with a heavy heart, he made Pipsqueak promise to avoid the Once-ler's camp from now on; he would soon relay this to the other animals as well. Unbeknownst to the guardian, however, a rather "fishy"-looking chorus had kept a diligent watch over this conversation, and independently resolved to become a stepping stone in an alternative to the aborted approach their little Bar-ba-loot friend had been so sure would succeed.

**AN: So is that it? Plan C of "Operation: Prevent the forest's destruction" is just going to be scrapped? Or could it still work, with just a slight tweak here and there? Anyway, now we're finally seeing the other animals start to come into the project as well, which hopefully means the operation's adaptability and ultimately its chances of success will improve, with more minds at work! In the meantime, I will explain those notes I made:  
**

**1\. A reference to the short, "Forces of Nature". Personally, if it had been me, seeing the Lorax fluff up after being drenched with a hose would not have put me off of being an Honourary Lorax.**

**2\. As it's been pointed out by a lot of fans of the film, the Once-ler looks remarkably out-of-place with his family, and even bears many significant personality differences from them. Still, if you squint and view the image on its side, you'll notice there are a few, ever-so-subtle ties between some of his more vice-like traits and theirs; these were some of the most noticeable ones I've recognized.  
**

**I would like to thank everyone who's reviewed the story so far; it can't be said, or read, too many times just how supportive good feedback is for progress! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**For a while there it felt like I would never get this chapter done. A few components had been long-standing in draft form, and the major delay was figuring out how to fit in the further developments I'd since made to those concepts, and then reconcile it all with the story. I'm glad that I finally solved the dilemma, because this is where the other animals really become involved in the struggle to protect their environment. Pipsqueak doesn't feature in this chapter beyond mentioning, because it's focusing on the others right now, but I intend to bring him back in the next one.**

Even though the Lorax intended to keep all of the animals of the Truffula valley away from the human family's camp, it soon became clear that the animals had other ideas. Pipsqueak was already bound by oath not to go near the humans anymore, but the Humming fish in whom he'd confided, who thoroughly agreed with his motion that the animals needed to do something to help protect their forest, were determined not to let the cub's hard work go to waste. Before the Lorax could force the rest of the animals to promise to avoid the humans, they thereby set out spreading word of the concept as far as they could.

The general interest of the forest community was most definitely piqued by the story of what the baby Bar-ba-loot had been up to. Those especially close to him had been more than shocked upon hearing of his run-in with Brett and Chet; Pipsqueak's parents had almost had a fit in fact, but at the same time his courage and conviction gradually began to spark inspiration, along with admiration amongst all of them.

One thing the fish made clear, however, was that everyone had to avoid letting the Lorax order them to keep their distance; they couldn't even allow him a chance to bring the subject up. This sounded like a feat easier said than done, but when someone pointed out that the guardian was at this moment approaching their circle, necessity proved itself the mother of invention yet again.

Just as the Lorax was raising his paws to signal the animals' attention, one of them called, off the top of their head, "Tag everyone! The Lorax is It!" In seconds everyone clued in and scattered in all directions, and the forest guardian was left stopped in his tracks, paws never having altered their position.

The Lorax saw nothing unusual about this impromptu community game; such things were anything but uncommon in the Truffula valley, but he found it more than a tad annoying that it began right when he was about to deliver an important speech to the animals – unaware that this was precisely the whole aim behind it, of course.

For the most part following the object of the game was effortless enough, and at times some found it easy to forget the serious undertone in the thrill of the moment, but here and there a challenge arose which would remind them to stay on their toes. One such instance occurred with Lou, who despite putting his all into it, was not exactly what you'd call a runner, and did not take long to wear down. This, it seemed, called for a sizable portion of atmospheric suspense, as everyone still in Lou's vicinity momentarily ceased climbing up or diving in and around the foliage, watching in sympathetic dismay as he was faced with the mercy of a gaining Lorax.

Fortunately, about half a dozen swans came to the rescue, and the "danger" was... _sort of_ averted. While the Lorax, who was by now a little more invested in the game (as well as seriously regarding it as a game of tag), protested that that was essentially "cheating", the swans were more busied with the problem of holding onto their Bar-ba-loot burden, who was unquestionably a far-cry from carrying a little cub. A quarter of a minute proved that six swans weren't enough to keep Lou airborne, and though it was through no intent of theirs, the poor fellow circumstantially embarked on an ill-equipped skydive into the forest below.

As the dismayed swans flew down to make sure their fallen passenger was alright, the game otherwise went on, mostly uneventful, till nightfall, and thankfully with the Lorax's message undelivered. Now, with both the forest guardian and the humans asleep, the animals could get down to business.

At first their midnight meeting consisted merely of a relay of what was already known about the situation, for they all needed to be on the same page in order to formulate the next step. Of all the details they covered, the one which seemed to stand out the most was that the Once-ler's mother had been the one to convince her son to ignore his promise. This was, after all, one of the first details Pipsqueak and his playmates had picked up on, and also had been reaffirmed by the Lorax.

"Then Pipsqueak's probably right, and we should try to get her to change her mind," someone said.

"I dunno, that woman gives me the creeps," another piped up. "Has anyone else noticed that thing she always wears around her neck? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think that used to be someone... if you know what I mean."

There was a moment of silence. In fact, surprisingly few of the animals had noticed that the woman wore a stuffed dead creature around her neck, but with this grisly information brought to the fore... well suddenly she seemed far less approachable than before.

One of the fish then pointed out, "Well, then again, isn't she usually the one who gets her other sons to stop playing around with us? I mean, they only stopped throwing _us_ when she told them to, today, and she also got them to stop throwing you guys around when they first showed up," the speaking fish motioned to the Bar-ba-loots as he said this.

Everyone mulled over this for a moment. For a woman who treated the deceased as clothing, she _had_ technically helped several of the forest inhabitants out of those rough encounters with her sons. And it was clear she was one of the top authorities in the Once-ler's family, and apparently the one who had the most influence over him. In the end that was enough to decide them. Somehow, in the hopes that it were possible, they would have to appeal to the woman, and try to garner her sympathy. A heart-to-heart was obviously out of the question, but there were other ways to befriend a human, and if they were lucky that would be enough.

/

First the Bar-ba-loots made their move on the woman. Penetrating the monstrous, looming structure of that RV when extended to its fullest wasn't nearly as easy as it was to get inside the Once-ler's home, and there would have been a lot more navigation required once inside, but as if by the genius of fate, it was into the trailer that Lou had landed that afternoon, the swans who'd dropped him following close behind. As all of the humans had been working at the time, no one was inside, and the Lorax was unlikely to find them there either, so the animals had felt secure in exploring the place a bit, now that they were inside. Along with finding some very nifty novelties amongst the family's food stash - "Wow, the Once-ler never has all these things!" Lou had marveled, taking the liberty of raiding a potato chip bag, a couple boxes of cookies, and a large fruit bowl in the kitchenette* – they also developed a basic understanding of where some of the key places within the RV were, including the sleeping quarters. So this time, it did not take terrifically long to determine which part of the vehicle was specifically the Once-ler's mother's place to hunker down for the night.

Granted, they didn't know the first thing about how humans made these extremely structural nests, but the sheer idea that so many rooms and passages could be incorporated into a convertible vehicle like this still struck the animals as surreal.

When they had established a clear sense of where to find her, they then proceeded on the second part of their plan. By now it was approaching dawn, and the humans were likely to wake up soon. About the only way of offering peace that the Bar-ba-loots were aware of was to gather fruit from the Truffula trees, to present to the party it was hoped that peace could be achieved with, so the lot of them snuck into the woman's quarters with as many fruits as they could carry, each. There would have to be something seriously wrong with her if she couldn't be bought with all these!

The Once-ler's mother lay snoring in bed, a mint-green face mask attempting to block out the years from showing on her skin. As she lay on her side, facing out towards the animals, they carefully slid the majority of the fruits up onto the bed beside her. What they couldn't get up there, they left for her to find around her slippers.

As if on cue, her alarm clock sounded, and she groggily rolled over to turn it off. With her face down, she was caught off guard by a cool, juicy mush which invaded her complexion.

"What the -" she sat up, taking in the Truffula mulch half squished into her pillow and covers, half squished onto herself. Exclaiming in disgust, she leaped out of bed, feet searching for her slippers, only to form and thereby slip in more mulch.

Judged by her salty language, this did not appease her in the slightest. The Bar-ba-loots, looking on, had a feeling this was not going to work after all. Especially not when she saw them, and started yelling at the "filthy bears" to get out, grabbing whatever random object she could and swinging it at them. So, this pretty much proved there _was_ something seriously wrong with the woman, in any case, but now was definitely not the time to reflect on this, as everyone was far too busy trying to dodge the angry woman's strikes.

In the midst of the mother's game of whack-a-Bar-ba-loot, Lou somehow ended up inside the small closet in which she kept an almost comical over-stuffing of clothes and accessories, with the door closed behind him. True, this could lead to complications when he tried to leave again, but for the time being he wasn't too worried, as long as he wasn't anywhere where she could get at him. That was until, even in the closet's overall darkness, he got a faint glimpse of what a good part of her wardrobe was comprised of...*

Even after things quieted down at last, and the Once-ler's mother had left her "bedroom" to clean up and get set for the day, it took Lou a bit of time to recover enough from his shocking discovery in order to leave the closet and sneak outside again. When he reunited with his fellow Bar-ba-loots, they were all a bit flustered and disappointed with the outcome of that failed venture.

"Who's idea was it to give her such soft fruit, anyway?"

"She's a lady! You always give ladies the ripest fruits you can find."

"Yeah, that's just how it's done!"

"And anyway, how were we supposed to know she doesn't like Truffula fruit? Who'd ever guess that _anyone_ could dislike it?!"*

"Oh, hey, Lou!" They finally noticed him. "We were getting worried about you there!"

"What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

Lou's blank, somewhat quivering expression did not undergo any adjustments, but if he could bring himself to speak at the moment he might have said, "Close enough!"

Well, that attempt may have been a bust, but the Swomee swans and Humming fish were up next; perhaps they'd have more success?

About the only way to "work their charms" that they could think of was a musical display – it was, after all, the most notable shared talent of the two species. For that matter, a song and dance collaboration between swans and fish should create even more of an impression than either group going it alone; if they dared say so, their mutual performances were nothing short of spectacular.

They waited a while before conducting their serenade; a little practice choreography beforehand couldn't hurt, and after what they'd heard had happened with the Bar-ba-loots, it might be wise to give the woman a chance to cool down again.

It was close to breakfast when the swans and fish were ready. With the day being off to a balmy start, the humans were dining outside again, which was actually quite an ideal arrangement relative to the performance the creatures were about to give. Being inside the RV would not have allotted sufficient space for the swans to do their aerial swerves and terpsichores.

Naturally, the human family was caught by surprise by the sudden swarm of fish and birds – the latter of which in fact caused a few of them to duck for cover, initially. They recovered soon enough, when they realized that the animals were not trying to swipe anything from them, or do anything _else_ of an overly invasive nature, but the little woodland musical they were being treated to maintained a hold on their attention.

"Oh, would y'all listen to that?" the Once-ler's mother remarked, smiling. "Who'd ever think a bunch of forest critters could be so melodic?"

Even as they continued performing, the swans and fish were now beaming, themselves. Good! That was just the sort of reaction they wanted her to give!

"Meh, too much noise if you ask me," Aunt Grizelda snorted. Okay, that wasn't so encouraging, but it still seemed they were on the right track. The woman they needed to create a good impression on was responding favourably, and furthermore the men all seemed equally captivated, as well. This alone would probably not lead to the tree-chopping coming to an end, but it was a good start, at any rate!

Or, then again, maybe not. Towards the end of their number, as the Humming fish and Swomee swans gathered together on the ground in intricately-laced clusters, finishing their harmonization in the process, a swan named Myrna just happened to notice something about the comestibles laid out on the little patio table everyone was seated around. Squinting, the female swan studied the several small cups, each holding a disproportionately large, speckled oval object atop. Easily the most horrifying thing to catch a swan's attention.

Shrieking, she squawked, "Wait a minute! Our EGGS! Hold everything! These monsters are eating our EGGS!"

Gosh, to describe the pandemonium which erupted among the Swomee swans when that observation had been shared! The majority of it is probably best left to the imagination, but to summarize: The swans, particularly the females (and moreso if they were expecting mothers who, for all they knew, may now be out their most recent eggs!), suddenly began to act like something out of the works of Alfred Hitchcock, the Humming fish were dumbstruck and horrified, though decidedly less active about it, and of course, the humans were alarmed by this sudden change in the birds' mood, and made a quick switch to the defensive. Just when it seemed like things were about to get indescribably ugly, a sharpish, bossy voice rang out, "ALRIGHT, TIME OUT! What the heck is going on here?!"

Well, neither the humans nor the animals could avoid feeling like students caught in a schoolyard fight, now.

**AN: I think we can all guess who's happened on to the scene! Their plan has gone from "bust" to busted! Not to worry, none of the animals are ready to give up just yet - though I'll bet the swans will be forever disenchanted with trying to form an unspoken peace treaty with the Once-ler's folks. Now, as for those asterisks:  
**

**1\. I just imagine the Once-ler as having relatively limited and simple food preferences, based on the food types associated with him in the film.  
**

**2\. Where there's one fur-based garment in an individual's wardrobe, there's likely to be others. Enough said.**

**3\. Frankly, it's hard to blame the Once-ler's mother for getting so uptight about what happened with those fruits. If she really did dislike them altogether, however... well, to each their own, I guess.**

**Once again, I would like to thank everyone who's reviewed so far; 'tis ever-so reassuring! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank goodness I've got this chapter done! This one has taken the longest to complete so far, but it doesn't really surprise me, seeing as things become so much more complicated over the course of events about to be showcased. With the idea of winning over the Once-ler's family not even being left on the back burner, the animals are going to branch their plans out in directions they would generally not consider...**

At the very least, the Swomee swan/Human showdown's intervention gave the Lorax something to focus on, as a change from the highly stressful tree situation, that morning. From getting everyone to stop attacking... pretty much everyone, to trying to grab and assemble whatever information made sense from whatever source, to sending the animals on their way (to be lectured later) and directing a few sharp words toward the humans, it was almost a welcome distraction for a while there.

By the end of Lecture 1: Humans, and Lecture 2: Fish and Swans, the Lorax had (he hoped) straightened out several ground rules for everyone to play by. First of all, like Pipsqueak, this time the animals were ALL forbidden from interacting with the humans, and vice versa. Secondly, the humans were not to eat the swans' eggs any more; they could easily satisfy their hunger for eggs from any other egg-producing source. "Locally layed" was not a necessity. Third, striking at the animals was strictly forbidden. And fourth, would the humans please bear in mind he _could_ actually hear all those snide remarks muttered under breath.

The day took a very uncharacteristic turn following that episode; for once the forest was not full of happy Bar-ba-loots playing and eating in the shade, or swans fluttering around and singing, or fish swimming around and humming. No, today provided strong evidence that crossness and disappointment primed one to let the heat get to them, as everyone was dead set on simply moping around all together in the shade with frown-creased faces.

Surprisingly enough, the only one of them who maintained a chipper frame of mind was little Pipsqueak, perhaps because he'd slept late after the roller coaster ride that had been the day before, and so had not been part of the farcical efforts his community had made over the last several hours. Of course, he was just too happy by nature to stay downhearted for long, even with the disappointing turn yesterday had taken for him. It intrigued him, however, seeing everyone else in such a downcast mood. When he asked his parents about it, it was not only they, but the rest of the group, who were more than happy (be that not a bad choice of words) to enlighten him.

Although the cub was pleased as punch at the impact his idea had made on his community, he lamented that they'd all wound up in the Lorax's naughty books for a day. He also felt sorry for the eggs of the Swomee swans, although when some of them remarked in disdain on their discovery of the human appetite for the unborn, Pipsqueak couldn't help but exchange a sheepish glance with Lou, the two of them being about the only animals of the forest who knew about just what went into the pancakes the Once-ler often made for everyone.*

Even while distributing his sympathy to his feathered friends, a spark of concern nagged at the cub, and would not settle itself down again until he'd inquired of Bill about what exactly had happened when the swans started attacking the humans. Namely, they hadn't hurt the Once-ler, had they?

As outwardly unaffected as ever, Bill shrugged and said, "I didn't even see him there, actually."

As it happened, the inventor of the thneed had been bathing at the time, and so had been safely out of proximity of the Swomee swans' wrath.

Pipsqueak was thankful that everyone had tried to carry his plan out; it would have been a lot nicer if it could have _worked_, but at least they'd tried. Sadly, using the communal collaboration as a pick-me-up from the sight of some certain axe-wielding humans flexing their capabilities again would be like trying to feed one hundred individuals with five fruits – an implausible feat which, according to the Lorax, could become a very real situation for them in the not-too distant future if this kept up.

"What do you think is so important about this 'money'-thing they want, anyway?" Bill's mother wondered out loud. It seemed she was one of only a few swans who had not been rendered nest-bound out of paranoia after the egg fiasco.

No one really had the answer. This was one of those moments when it showed, even through the clouds of neighbourly ambiance, that in most meanings of the phrase, humans came from a different world. The Once-ler and his family were really the only contact with the human world, not counting the huge crowd that had come here that day his product finally took off, that the inhabitants of the forest – those alive in this day and age, anyway – had ever had. Even so, their way of life, their customs, their goals, even their mere approach to existence itself was enough to imply that the realm of mankind was alien beyond the point of full understanding. The problem was, he had brought a portion of that world into the midst of theirs, his family later impounding this contribution, and he had even forged a friendship with the animals, so this tilt to their environmental balance seemed irrevocable. In order to know what to do to make it work from this point, it was necessary to know more about how human society worked, and what precisely motivated this family to do the things they were doing here.

"Well, whatever it is, they want a lot of it," Pipsqueak said. The memory of that eerie elevation which came over the Once-ler when he showed Pipsqueak all that money the day before still made the little Bar-ba-loot shudder.

"I wonder if we could ask Melvin what he knows about it," Pipsqueak's mother suggested. "That wouldn't be going against the Lorax's orders, now would it?"

The myriad of down-hanging faces surrounding her began to look up, intrigued. That was actually a pretty good idea! Melvin had come here with the Once-ler, and had in fact been around humans his whole life. He'd seen what their world was like, so he must know something about this strange stuff these creatures valued so much! Plus, not being a human himself, it surely would not be disobedient of the "stay away from the humans" rule the Lorax had set, if they were to speak with him!

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!" Pipsqueak was already up and scampering off in pursuit of this new lead.

"Uh, slight problem, folks," one of the fish said, poking his head out of the nearby river. "He left for that town with the Once-ler an hour ago."

Oh, right. Well then, they'd just have to wait till they came back.

/

It turned out, Melvin had quite a lot of useful information to provide them with. They learned from him that money, though in all truth a human-fabricated concept, had become one of the core aspects of how these creatures' lives were conducted. It was used by way of exchange in order to acquire food, provisions, clothing, even to get and maintain a hold of shelter. What's more, the amount of money you had, as a result of the flexibility large quantities of it could offer, also influenced your role in society. Too little, and a human would starve, while subsequently being left to the elements. Too much – and he did in fact call it "too much" - and they could practically afford to orchestrate the _mindset_ of the general population.

While the concept of trade was not unknown to the forest animals, it was only really a circumstantial thing where they were concerned. The way _their_ society was run, it certainly was not essential to livelihood, and the very idea that humans downright depended on this societal toy they'd come up with in the first place, just to get enough to eat and have somewhere safe to sleep seemed ludicrous.

But, if that was how these odd creatures operated, then the Once-ler and his family's deep-seeded desire for money was beginning to make a lot more sense. The animals cared for the Once-ler, and were willing to extend a respect toward his family – the swans, not so much anymore – precisely because that's what they were, so they wouldn't want them to be denied something it had been ingrained into them over the course of countless generations to value so highly, but even so they needed to stand up for their own environment; it could not be one or the other. If only there was some way the human family could get more money without having to mass-produce these thneeds!

"Well, what about that bank thing?" One of the Bar-ba-loots suggested. Melvin had also told them about these buildings called "banks" - not to be confused with the shores of rivers – which served as center-points for the distribution of money. It so occurred that the Once-ler, after finishing with his sales for the day, had gone and opened an account at the local bank, now having enough money to do this. Bank accounts were to money as caches were to food – think of his refrigerator or his cupboards. And yes, it was quite surprising what you could pick up just from overhearing what humans said about their own activities.*

The Bar-ba-loot who'd spoken continued, "I'm pretty sure I recall him saying that aside from peoples' personal stores, there's a part of the bank where a bunch of money is held, that doesn't belong to anyone in particular."

After a moment of group-consideration, another said, "So... what you're saying is, we should try to get a hold of money for him by sneaking into this place?"

"Well, that was kind of where I was going with that, yes."

Some of the animals objected that there were a number of plot-holes in that idea. First, they'd have to leave the forest and head into the town to do this, second, they'd have to somehow figure out the exact location of the bank, and third, they'd be mingling with humans when they were not supposed to.

Bill's mother then said, "I don't think the Lorax's orders apply to the town, I think he just wants us to avoid the Once-ler and his family. We swans sometimes fly over in the direction of that town, and he never said we couldn't anymore." She knew she was pulling straws with this, but any loophole could help their cause a great deal. "I could go and look for this bank, and see what I can find out about it up close," she suggested.

Seeing as nobody had a better suggestion to offer, they wished her luck, and after she lovingly nuzzled her son and told him to be on his best behaviour, she set off on her mission. And in the meantime, the others collectively decided that, in the event that such an undertaking seemed manageable, they'd better have a game-plan ready.

/

It was certainly an interesting sight, if anyone were awake to behold it, seeing the lone wagon sauntering into the town close to midnight that night. Even more cognitively compelling was the unusual troupe using the wagon as transport.

"Is the hook still in place?" Pipsqueak hissed, while helping Lou coach the vehicle.

Seated atop the hook which connected the wagon to Melvin, Bill called back, "Yep! Still attached!"*

Melvin was still mentally reprimanding himself for going along with this. When several of the animals, with Pipsqueak and Lou at the lead, had approached him that night to request his assistance, he had reminded them that the Once-ler did not appreciate his wagon being used for joyrides. Pipsqueak quickly justified that this was not a "joyride", this was a "business trip", deciding right then and there that he could maybe learn to tolerate that word for the sense of pride he discovered it established. Now this piqued Melvin's interest, but suspiciously enough, all the animals would say was that they needed to get to the town in order to try and settle the tree problem. Although he wanted them to divulge more of the details behind this strange errand, Lou had promptly presented him with an armload of Truffula fruit.

He knew it was a bribe, but in a perverse way, life with the Once-ler had trained him to perceive bribes as somewhat endearing. Also, he thought those fruits divine, and as such he begrudgingly submitted.

"So where did you say it was?" Pipsqueak's mother asked Bill's, peering out from the cart.

Looking out with her friend, the swan replied, "Down this way. Lou, ask Melvin to turn left."

"Sure thing!" Lou replied, before giving these directions.

When they came to their destination, the wagon was brought to a stop. Seeing where they were, Melvin frowned quizzically and ventured to ask, "Okay, what exactly is going on here?"

Cryptically, Pipsqueak said, hugging one of his legs, "It's alright, Melvin. We've just got to do something real quick. Please just wait here, till we come back?"

What could be said about it? The cub was downright irresistible.

When that was settled, Pipsqueak rejoined the team, consisting of himself, Bill, Gil, their respective families, Lou and the three Humming fish who'd helped get everyone in on Pipsqueak's operation. If they were going to fetch enough to convince the Once-ler's folks that they didn't need to produce their thneeds so fast, they would need a great deal of carrying-power, but at the same time, the adage about too many cooks was entirely applicable.

Bill's mother directed her companions to a window she'd pinpointed while scouting the outskirts of the building. When she had told them earlier about how the place was deserted and then locked up late that afternoon, she mentioned a rather noisy setup that they were toying around with momentarily, which was connected to the front door. Considering discretion was of the essence in this job, she reckoned this window which had been left partly ajar would be safer.

The youngsters and the fish managed to squeeze through the opening without complication, but it took a few moments of studying the window's mechanism to permit the others the same ease of transition. When at length they were all inside, the Humming fish remarked, "All right! Let's set the mood, folks!" And immediately, they embarked on a round of humming the theme tune of the _Pink Panther_ film, _A Shot in the Dark_.*

It did add an appealing touch to the atmosphere, as their humming always did, and fortunately it also aided Lou every time he strayed from the crowd by mistake, and was subsequently forced to retrace his steps.

"Here we are," Bill's mother said, when they came into the main room of the bank. She led them over to the tellers' counters, "If I'm not wrong, the money's in here!"

In moments, the excited gang was up on the countertops, reaching over and pulling on the drawers on the tellers' side. Seconds later, they realized they were locked, but Pipsqueak's father was able to pick the secures with his claws, and soon everyone was back on track, phishing out the fiscal contents of the drawers. "Wow, look how much is in here!" Pipsqueak remarked, working with Bill and Gil on one of the drawers. "Think this'll be enough, guys?"

Gil mused, "I'm not sure, but shouldn't we be more worried about how we'll carry all this?"

In a somewhat muffled voice, Bill remarked, "We're probably all going to have to go back and forth a few times."

"Bill! You're not _eating_ them?" Pipsqueak and Gil turned to the cygnet in horror, just in time to see a green slip of paper slide up his bill, to disappear into the abyss within.

Swallowing, he casually defended, "Just wanted to know what they taste like."

During the first carrying trip, someone pointed out that Lou had somehow gravitated into absence again. Everyone groaned at the thought of another holdup, but in the meantime they returned to the cart so as to load it with their loot. They found that a certain, hefty Bar-ba-loot was already there, and was eager to show them all the treats he'd acquired from this rather cozy looking room he'd discovered in the bank. Classic Lou.*

After that they made two or three more trips, but on the final one Murphy's Law made its grand entrance into the scene. Though they had thought themselves alone in the place, a flash of light springing into view around a corner far down the hallway led them to realize it wasn't as empty as they believed.

As the light was consistently growing nearer, the group did the only thing they could think of; they jumped down behind the tellers' counter, bounty in arms, and huddled together, waiting. Footsteps were soon heard, and Gil was sent to scout the situation. Peering around the corner, he observed the night watchman providing the area with a precursory scour. He speedily retreated before the man's flashlight shed light on his presence, then reported what was going on to the others. Waiting by the corner till the watchman made his way down another corridor, they then scurried out of hiding and over to the route they'd formed, their guard raised almost to the point of hackles.

As luck would have it, the watchman overheard this, although the animals managed to stay beyond his viewpoint till they had cleared the building. Calling out to the intruding party, he ran in their general direction. When he was unable to determine their exact method of exit, he made for the back doors, where another one of those noisy hookups was situated...

The panic-ridden animals were just finishing loading the cart when they heard the blaring ringing Bill's mother had described. Through its infernal din they were still able to hear the man calling out for the marauder/s he was after, and seeing as the noise seemed to be inspiring the dark windows of the nearby houses to brighten up, they did not even need to persuade Melvin to high-tail it out of there.

**AN: Call me a worrier, but I just have a gut feeling this scheme is too harebrained to work. I'm just saying. But they do have a lot to learn about humans, so you can't expect them to enter the scene like pros, can you? As for the notes I've tagged this chapter with:  
**

**1\. Although there's no on-screen proof with which to confirm it, in my headcanon this has come to be known as "The Once-ler's other promise". I'm pretty certain if the Lorax found out - and he would, I don't doubt - that pancakes generally include eggs in their ingredients, the only way he'd be convinced to let the Once-ler continue making them is if: A. He considered how good they taste. B. The Once-ler made a promise basically on his life that he'd never use the Swomee swans' eggs. Also, I'm sure the use of _any_ eggs in his cooking would still be preferably kept under wraps where most of the animals, the swans namely, were concerned.**

**2\. One of my favourite topics to ponder in a quiet time, is just how much information animals retain about us, when we let our tongues wag around them.**

**3\. If you're familiar with the short, "Wagon Ho!", you'll understand why they want to take this precaution!**

**4\. This is the second time a fanfic of mine has drawn inspiration from something with this title, but I love this instrumental, particularly the version of it used for the opening theme of the cartoon, "_The Inspector_". It's engaging, mildly humourous, but still fraught with suspense; just the sort of thing the fish ought to hum in this scenario!**

**5\. Just in case you didn't guess, Lou found the employee lounge. It completely struck me as something he'd make time for!**

**I will once again thank everyone who's provided feedback in all mediums on this story so far. Good inspiration, as the plot becomes more complex!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, here we are, at Chapter 6! Although I said when I first posted this story that I meant to showcase in each chapter a different strategy or attempt by the animals to change the course of fate, this chapter ends up deviating from that system a bit, because there's just so much going on here already. Right now, therefore, we're going to focus on the consequences of the gang's misadventure from the last chapter; it almost proves quite a hard lesson about the dangers of tampering with human culture.**

Though it felt like their hearts were doing the turkey trot in fast motion, the bank-heisting animals made it back to the Truffula valley without incident. Taking the necessary amount of time to collect their bearings, they all agreed that was far too close, and then got right back to work. Seeing as they couldn't present the money to the Once-ler in person, they thought they'd just leave it all in a nice, neat arrangement not too far away from his tent, so he'd discover it the next morning. Speaking of which, the next morning was not too far away, so they'd better not dally on this.

Melvin was justifiably angry that he'd been used in such a way, and tried to confront them about it, but everyone was too immersed in their work to pay attention. It was as if in their short exposure to it, the money had now gone to their brains as well. Finally, he unhooked himself from the cart and followed after them, stopping several of them in their tracks. First of all, he demanded of them what they were thinking? This was what humans called "grand theft", and on a frightening scale at that. The legal repercussions someone faced for committing robbery, especially such serious robbery as this, were just plain terrifying.

Even the team members who were still working on stacking the money up halted upon overhearing this revelation. Legal repercussions? For taking money that was open to the public? Assuming what they had more or less suspected right from the start; that humans didn't want other animals handling their stuff, and that the Once-ler's capacity to forgive in that regard was only a novelty among his kind, this re-instilled their earlier fear. What had they brought upon themselves? What would the townspeople do to them for this? Could they be made to understand that they didn't take the money for their own use, but for the benefit of a select group of humans?

His anger settled down into worry, Melvin concluded, "All I'm saying is, we'd all better hope nobody saw us. If they did..."

The animals did not need to hear any more. As soon as their work was done, they fled into the depths of the forest, advising Melvin to accompany them but not looking back for one second.

As exhausting as the ordeal had been for all of them, not even the children who'd partaken in the mission were able sleep for the remainder of the night, and their parents could hardly blame them. All they could do was brood over what lay unknown ahead of them, and the apparent possibility that in solving one problem for their community they'd unleashed a completely new one. The cool, ethereal light of the early morning sun's rays did not bring for them the joy of a brand new dawn, rather, it served to feed the cold dread which now weighed down their spirits.

/

When the other inhabitants of the forest had awakened, they were all eager to hear of how it went down, which made the dismal revelation even harder for those who had journeyed out to do what seemed like simple harvesting at the time. Nevertheless, ignorance would definitely not be bliss on this matter, and so they boldly relayed the news. While it at least did not cause widespread panic, it cannot be said that the issue was taken as with a grain of salt.

Suddenly, Gil came rushing to the grove where the early morning meeting was being held, crying out in excitement, "Hey, everybody! Something's going on over at the human camp! There's a bunch of guys who drove up here in these really flashy wagons!" He called them by this term, not being currently aware of the word "car".

"Already it's upon us!" someone moaned, melodramatically. "I say we all scatter to the far ends of the valley!"

Catching his breath, the baby fish went on, "No, it's not about us! The Once-ler's in trouble!" With that, he sped around towards the human camp again.

The Once-ler was in trouble? With his own kind? What on earth for? Not that they could do anything about it the way things were as of lately, but they certainly wanted to know what was happening, all the same.

Camouflaged or secluded by the trees and foliage, the animals observed as the Once-ler was held by the arms by two men in dark blue clothing, his wrists shackled behind him. He was still wearing his pajamas; odd, seeing as he was usually dressed for the day by this time. His family was looking on from outside their RV, ostensibly muted by befuddlement.

"What are they doing to him?" Pipsqueak muttered, looking on from a tree-top together with his parents and Lou.

"Arresting him," the Lorax surprised the group of Bar-ba-loots by revealing his shared presence atop that tree. "Somebody in the town recognized his wagon speeding away from the bank after it got robbed last night."

The Bar-ba-loots all tried not to gulp too audibly. So they _had_ been caught, sort of. Except because the wagon, which belonged to the Once-ler, was all that anyone saw, the blame for this crime was being fixed on him. But wait a minute, he was a human too! He was supposed to be allowed to have money! Pipsqueak, not realizing how suspicious it might sound, weighed in on this confusion to the Lorax.

Indeed, the Lorax found it rather interesting that a baby Bar-ba-loot would possess any concept – off-kilter as this one was, of course – as to how the legal system in human society ran, but for right now he was focused on observing what was happening with the Once-ler. It would not be his place to meddle with human law, but as disappointed in the man as he was, he did not want to see him thrown into jail. The thing was, this crime made absolutely no sense! When his thneed was selling quite successfully – at the cost of the trees, but for once that was beside the point – why would he feel compelled to steal copious amounts of cash from the bank? Was his greed really so ravenous that he had that little control over it?

It sounded as though the police officers were taunting the Once-ler quite cruelly, asking him things like whether people were just not buying his product fast enough, or if this was some crazy act of revenge on the town for their past mistreatment of him? The man was clearly too stunned to utter any coherent response, but his wide, glazed eyes were staring back and forth down at the officers. A blend of pure shock and fear was now the foundation of his visage.

His mother was speaking with two other officers, who were ransacking the wagon for further evidence. They appeared to be doing their best to ignore her, although one kept glancing over her admittedly cute figure. If the Lorax wasn't mistaken, the woman was trying to play on this, as if suggestive body language could keep your son on the right side of the prison cell.

"Aha!" The non-ogling officer snapped loud enough for the on-lookers in the trees to hear. Relatively new to the job, this one still took working for the law quite enthusiastically. "These match the list of food items the watchman reported taken from the employee lounge!"

"Oh, darn!" Lou groaned. He must have forgotten his bounty of snacks when they were emptying the wagon!

Pipsqueak tugged on Lou's paw, and the large Bar-ba-loot glanced down to see the cub fervently shaking his head. Behind him, Pipsqueak's parents made similar gesticulations, and Lou suddenly realized what an error he'd almost made. He could only hope that quizzically arched brow on the Lorax's face did not mean he'd picked up on it.

"Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself, Mr. Once-ler," one of the men holding him in place sneered, "because you won't be getting such decadent midnight snacks where you're going."

Finding his voice again, the man stammered, "No, no, no, wait. Wait, please – this is all a huge misunderstanding! I swear I never -"

If the officers were to be believed, everyone charged with grand theft said that. At this point they began dragging the limp-legged man over to one of their vehicles.

"I still can't believe Beanpole would do this sort of thing," the Lorax muttered, shaking his head. "That he'd throw away the best years of his life over a couple hundred grand!"

"What's going to happen to him, Uncle Lorax?" Pipsqueak turned to the forest guardian, fearfully.

"I've no idea how I know this," the guardian replied, "but he could easily face decades confined in prison, considering how much was stolen. That, and his reputation will be as good as swamp water from now on."

Oh the pain of guilt! The animals who overheard this were feeling it right now. They could not even be relieved that they were not the ones in trouble with the humans. Not when in their place the Once-ler had been accused of doing something his people considered so wrong that he'd be given such a harsh penalty over it.

The man was certainly having a miserable time of it. He was only half awake for most of this interrogation, what with exhaustion from work in recent days; he was hungry, because as far as time was concerned, this ordeal had effectively consumed breakfast for him, and he was cold because his pajamas, though fine for being snuggled under the covers, were literally not outdoor material.

None of this could override the profound confusion and devastation he felt inflicted with, however. He spoke the truth when he said he had no idea how that truckload of money had shown up outside his tent, but of course his ignorance would be impossible to prove, especially when his wagon had been clearly identified fleeing the scene. His growling stomach ought to discredit the theft of those employee lounge snacks, but a cretin could guess that the grief he'd get over that charge paled in comparison to stealing – how much did they say it was? Way up there, anyway. Now, he fancied his mind a brilliant one, but even if he'd wanted to pull off a heist like this there was no way he'd expect to get away with that much! Again though, his claims about his own inclinations would be as good as hearsay, where the court was concerned.

This left him with the most confounding part of the situation: Who _had_ done this? Who would _want_ to do this to him? Why did it seem like every time things started to go right for him, Life in personification would jump into view with an armload of curve balls, gleefully announcing, "April Fool! You're still my all-time favourite target for throwing practice!"

Though he was too submerged in a state of flummoxed defeat to follow what anyone was saying, as he was led toward one of the police cars, the Once-ler glanced back at his family. His aunt; grim-set in expression as usual, but seeming distinctly disappointed. His uncle; completely baffled, never having thought his nephew would be capable of such a heinous act. The Once-ler hoped, if his reading of Ubb's facial language was accurate, that he meant that as _morally_ incapable; if there was ever a time when he was up for jokes about his intellect, be they lighthearted or derisive, this wasn't it. His brothers; utterly perplexed, as if they did not know what to make of what was happening. And now his mother; she was still trying to persuade the officers that her little Oncie was a good boy, who'd never had any run-ins with the law in his life. Nice to hear that from her, anyway.

"I understand this must be very difficult for you, ma'am," the officer who'd been eyeing her said with a professionally consoling air.

"You've no idea, officer!" she moaned, dabbing her eyes. "The fact that anyone would go accusin' my son of bank robbery! The heck with those claims about the wagon, Oncie's the head of what promises to become the biggest – well, one of the biggest companies in the world! Does that sound like somebody who's about to waste their time breakin' bad like this?"

"Well, ma'am -"

"Well nothin', officer!" The mother snapped, stepping purposefully away from him at this point. "Ain't it obvious to ya, this is the work of some jealous hooligan out to tarnish Oncie's reputation!" And she truly believed what she was saying; there was no way her son could be stupid enough to do something so – so – no, it was just out of the question. Not when business was flying. Not when his conviction under such circumstances would cause his whole enterprise to go belly-up before it even reached maturation.

But what could be done about it now? Whoever had committed this crime, using the Once-ler's wagon, he could _not_ undergo imprisonment for it. If this unknown enemy got their way and the company went down... wait a moment! A recollection from her children's formative years inspired a scheme in her mind.

Keeping up her emotional facade – she never cared for open displays of melodrama, and least of all from herself, but she wouldn't deny that they often got you somewhere – she acted as though finally resigned to the situation, traipsing mournfully back to her other sons and continuing to moan about what a horrible turn of events this was. Inconspicuously she whispered something to the twins, apparently convincing them to "escort" her back inside the RV.

The Once-ler leaned over in the back seat of the police car, forehead pillowed uncomfortably against the back of the driver's seat, when his mother and brothers had closed themselves off from the outside. This really was it. This nightmare which had mysteriously emerged out of the blue, he was not going to wake up from it. He'd probably never find out who framed him for this, either. Sheesh, couldn't the police at least let him get properly dressed before they took him away?

"Oh, officers? Wait just a moment, will ya?" His mother stepped outside again, dragging one of the twins by the arm, and looking quite stern about it. "Brett here has somethin' he'd like to tell y'all. Well, Brett?" She sounded the epitome of maternal disappointment.

Whereupon the young man sheepishly twiddled his hat in his hands as he "confessed" to the robbery. With ready access to his brother's wagon, fraternal jealousy as a proclaimed motive, and a criminal record for shoplifting on a handful of occasions as a teenager, it seemed enough to convince the policemen. Asked why she'd not brought this up before, the mother relied on the simple explanation that the toll a parent took for consciously acknowledging such dark moments in their children's lives must have been more than her mind could bear.

The Once-ler hardly dared believe it when he was let out of the car, the cuffs removed from his wrists, and told he was clear. As soon as the men left his side it was as if his limbs lost their structure; down in a blank-headed heap he went.

"Oncie, honey, get up off the ground. That's unsanitary," his mother said, now standing beside him.

He glanced up at her for a moment, hesitating. Eventually he pulled himself together enough to rise to his feet, and her awaiting embrace. His eyes followed his brother, now looking both perplexed and a little scared as he was handcuffed and read his rights. "M-Mom, Brett... Brett _didn_'t -"

"Of course not, sweetie," she whispered, stroking his hair. "But we can't go havin' people think the head of Thneed Inc. is a low-down bank robber, can we? And this way it ain't quite so bad. Now you just go back to makin' those thneeds; I'll have to go and see if I can might make them lower your brother's reprimand!" And with that and a spritz of a small perfume bottle she kept handy, she was off to accompany the departing party of law enforcement back into town.

The rest of the family, still puzzling over recent events, went about their business. The Once-ler stared after the vehicles till they were gone, unable to will his body to do anything else up till then. Finally, praying he would refrain from fainting till he was inside, he turned and staggered his way back to his tent.

/

Entering the Once-ler's tent some time later, the Lorax shook his head in mild dismay. The human was taking a much more relaxed approach to his day than usual; still PJ-clad and tucked back in bed, working alternatively on his knitting and on satiating himself with a package of marshmallows. His face was set in such a resentful snarl, it was a wonder he could taste the sweetness of those confections through his own sourness.

Clearing his throat, the Lorax began, "Beanpole -"

The man's head turned to him with the speed of one possessed. "You." Placing down his knitting, he continued to glare in cold fury as he said, "You have a lot of nerve, coming in here."

"Need I remind you, your humble abode happens to be in my forest!" The Lorax reminded him.

Could the Once-ler's reply even be classified as a laugh? It was so bitter, it warranted a term of its own. "Your forest! Of course! Everything's about your precious forest and your precious Truffula trees, isn't it?" Standing up, he approached the orange being, his emotions for what he'd almost considered a friend before now teetering dangerously close to the edge beneath which lay the abyss of pure hatred. "Y'know, you've done some pretty terrible things to me since I came here, all in the name of the trees, but seriously? Trying to frame me for theft? I would've thought even you'd find that a bit low."

"Beanpole, it wasn't me -"

"Oh, no, of course not! What am I saying?" The Once-ler mocked him coldly. "I guess this must have been the so-called 'Forces of Nature', come to torture me for the rest of my life, huh? Because like you always say, 'That's not how it works!'"

Anyone else might laugh, watching the Once-ler's gesticulations, but right now it was all the forest guardian could do to keep from showing him just how these things really did work.

"You're right, there, Beanpole. That's _definitely_ not how they work."

"Please. Spare me the agony. Having it up to my nose is more than enough." Dismissively, the man turned back to his bed. Climbing in again, he remarked over his shoulder, "If you want, I'll put up a complaints box outside; anything you have to say can go in there. Don't come back in here again. Got it?"

After a heavy sigh, he heard the creature say, "Fine, if that's how you want it, kid." How deeply he wanted to believe it could be that simple with the Lorax. He then heard him say, "No, obviously this is a bad time." Not that he was terribly interested, but that did sound like an odd way to finalize the conversation.

"Oh, alright, twenty minutes like I said. But if he gives you any trouble, you leave right away, understand?" Alright, who on earth was he talking to? Turning around would risk his lingering, but the human could hardly help but wonder.

Seconds later, he heard the door close, as though the Lorax were assuring him he'd left. How he'd manoeuvred the door without his help he couldn't say. All his attention was now focused on the tugging which some unseen presence was inflicting on his blanket. Peering over the edge, he was quite surprised to see a familiar, brown-furred young animal staring up at him with large, hopeful eyes.

Though it had taken an exhaustive amount of persuasion, along with countless promises to keep it brief and especially to not stir up any more trouble while at it, Pipsqueak had in the end managed to acquire a temporary reprieve on the Lorax's "Humans and forest animals don't mix" rule. This did deserve to be labeled a "classified circumstance" after all.

To Pipsqueak's relief and delight, all signs of the Once-ler's earlier anger melted away, and in seconds the cub had been affectionately scooped up off the floor. As the man was fairly tired from the morning's events, he phished out a few marshmallows from which his little pal could help himself, and lay back against his pillows, currently stacked one atop the other.

Pipsqueak gratefully accepted these refreshments, and then climbed atop the Once-ler's belly, curling up contentedly when a hand reached up to scratch him gently. It really hit home now how much the cub had missed this quiet pastime. It also really hit home just what a lucky break it had been, that the Once-ler's mother was able to divert the suspicion of the police from him, even if it still meant one of his brothers had to take the blame. Boy, had Pipsqueak and the other animals messed up.

"I'm sorry," he murmured quietly, snuggling closer into his friend's warmth. All things considered, it needed to be said. And suddenly, that language barrier didn't seem like such a bad thing; all things considered.

With that, the cub felt free to settle in and enjoy the remainder of his visit.

**AN: Well, all's bittersweet that ends bittersweet. I kid, of course; there's no way this story's going to end without that coveted, elusive solution being unveiled! It is, after all, the part of this story I've been most looking forward to writing, all along!  
**

**With that, I shall again thank you all for your continued support - oh, and I hope you enjoyed that little throwback reference I inserted, just for fun! ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Alright, here we go! Chapter 7! It's been in the waiting room for a while because of some offline goings-on around and following Easter, but last night I finally snagged enough time to get what I wanted to cover in this chapter covered. In here, a couple of important airs are cleared, communication comes into a stronger play in the animals' campaign, and who knows? This might just be that push in the right direction they need, to come to the ideal solution!  
**

The Lorax ended up letting Pipsqueak stay with the Once-ler almost an hour, instead of twenty minutes. Peering at them through the window after receiving no reply to his call for the cub, he saw that the two were sound asleep, and in spite of himself the sight was simply too endearing to interrupt. Besides, if he allotted enough wind-down time before delivering Lecture no. Lost Count to Pipsqueak and the other animals, he might just be able to start it off without registering on the Richter scale.

When the lecture did take place, the atmosphere was full of remorse and disappointment. The animals had confessed to the Lorax, shortly after the police left the scene, about their being the backbone to the whole mess, which itself had culminated in the Lorax very nearly going on record as the origin of a case of seismic activity. When allowed to explain themselves during the lecture, the animals presented their motive and perspective: They'd (incorrectly) thought that humans treated money a bit like food; something to forage and then to either use or stash away. Following this thought, they'd assumed money like that which they'd retrieved from the bank was simply money that no one had taken for their "stash" yet, rather than money which belonged to the bank itself. Further, they thought that humans only didn't want other creatures trying to make use of money; that had been the reason for their late-night break and enter. It hadn't occurred to them that a human might be regarded by their own kind as stealing something their race had decided to raise to the level of Essential to Life.

Well, this wasn't the first time the Lorax had ever felt surrounded by idiots, and somehow he doubted it would be the last. "Seriously," he reprimanded while pacing back and forth in front of the crowd, "didn't any of you ever stop to wonder, if the bank's money really was up for grabs, why he didn't think of doing that _himself_?"

Silence. A silence filled with the semi-tangible tension of a multitude's internal mulling. No, they hadn't ever thought about that, and now that the concept had been boldly stated, it did seem kind of silly. Up till now, however, they supposed their extreme preoccupation with trying to snatch up a large enough quantity of money for their resident humans had prevented any opportunity to consider why they'd not taken that strategy, themselves.

"Well, you've really made a fine mess of things now," the Lorax came down, plainly. "His brother's been taken in for a crime he didn't commit, just to protect their business, which if you'll notice, they still have no plans of slowing down with any time soon; the man you all wanna help so badly nearly ended up in one of the worst situations imaginable to his kind, thanks to you, and -" Here he took a moment to sigh, as inconspicuously as achievable. "What you thought you were doing to help him, he now thinks _I_ arranged to make things harder for him instead." That actually stung a lot more than he'd ever admit, but he thought it best for it to remain unknown to the Once-ler who was really behind that bank heist. By way of the intuition of a nature spirit, the Lorax suspected it was better to let the human add this to his list of reasons to resent _him_, than to provide him with motive to hold a grudge against the forest community. Due to sweet moments like the Once-ler and Pipsqueak sharing a nap earlier, he wanted to believe that the man would let his friendship with the animals overcome the inevitable anger in that scenario, but the problem was, the human brain always warranted a second guessing of your predictions.

After a pregnant pause, Pipsqueak's mother softly said, "We're all very sorry. We only want to find a way to balance everyone's needs and wants."

"I _get_ that," the Lorax said, tiredly at first but with growing vigour as he continued, "but the problem is none of you know what you're dealing with, here. Humans aren't like normal animals. I thought I made it clear to you all the other night; they don't consider how what they do affects everything in the long run. They live in the moment, they see what they wanna see, they do whatever the heck they want, and that's it. The whole species is like an over-privileged brat who thinks they can get away with anything because Mother Earth's always gonna be there to pull 'em out of it. And more often than not it's too late when anyone realizes -"

"That that's not how it works?" Lou spoke up, quoting the forest guardian.

"Exactly!" The Lorax said. This interruption turned-agreement seemed to bring him back from his frustrated rant, onto the original topic. "And these humans are gonna give this whole forest and everyone in it enough trouble as is. And as your guardian it's up to me to try and make 'em realize what they're ultimately gonna cause, and try and nip it all in the bud. And I don't need you adding all these extra glitches left right and centre!" Calming himself down again, he looked at the Bar-ba-loots, Swomee swans and Humming fish before him, and asked in a strained voice, "_Why_, when I tell you all to stay back and leave dealing with the humans to me, can none of you seem to listen?"

The Lorax had become increasingly agitated over the past few days, due to the tree-chopping, but the animals had never seen him like this before. Though he was an immortal spirit tied to the forest as long as it was there to be guarded, he seemed almost completely drained of energy, like their additions to his stress had delivered a second-to-final blow. It was unnerving, even scary for a lot of them.

As such, it was another pensive while before the silence was broken. Then, very cautiously, and with great consideration, Pipsqueak's father spoke up. "Because, with all due respect, Lorax, this is our _home_."

The guardian acknowledged his words, and silently waited, allowing anyone so inspired to add something to this. After another few seconds of quiet – which by this point had basically become an unofficial standard feature preceding each contribution to the discussion – Bill's mother voiced her outlook on the matter.

"He's right. With all due respect, they don't... well, they don't seem very _receptive_ to your method of persuasion," she said, trying to avoid stepping out of the bounds of conduct while still telling it like it was. "And as little Pipsqueak's helped us all realize, it would probably be better to find some way to let them have what they want, without needing to chop the trees down any more, than to simply try and make them settle for less."

"Yeah," Lou added, "and now that they're living here, they're kind of like inhabitants too. So when you think about it, aren't you also in charge of them?"

It was hard to define the blend of expressions on the Lorax's face after taking in that last comment. After the Once-ler had promised not to continue chopping the trees, he had said he would "keep an eye on him." Worded that way, he knew it would mess with the young man's head a bit (which was and always would be a fun indulgence, truthfully), but in the depth of its meaning it was a distant way of saying that, albeit with the metaphorical application of caution tape, he was willing to welcome the Once-ler in as "one of them." The idea of also taking in his family as adopted charges left a sour taste in his mouth, even if they could somehow be convinced to take on an environmentally conscious approach to their work – mostly this was the fault of "Aunt" Grizelda – but then again, there was undeniable logic to what Lou just said. There was logic behind everything they'd said since the last time the Lorax had spoken. Even if the way they'd gone about trying to contribute to resolving the dilemma had surpassed the border of asinine, tenfold.

"You're right," he said, finally. "It _is_ your home, and as such it's your right to try and help defend it. And yeah, since it seems they're 'not going anywhere' in his words, I guess I might as well consider them in. But as for some way to help them make more money without chopping the trees down... I really don't see how it can be done."

"Well, if you'll let us, we'd still like to help," Pipsqueak's mother offered, her paws lovingly stationed atop the shoulders of her son.

One more moment of silence, and then the Lorax sighed, this time looking a bit more like his usual self. "All right," he said, even managing a bit of a wry smile. "But from now on, anyone who has any idea/s about this runs it by me first, okay?"

Everyone was more than happy to agree; they were glad that at last they'd be working together with their guardian to protect their forest, just like it should be.

/

It had been late in the day when the Once-ler's mother returned – without Brett, of course – escorted home by the police officer who'd taken a fancy to her. Watching from a distance, the Lorax rolled his eyes at the obvious flirting beneath the officer's professional consolation, and her maternal forlornness over what had transpired that day.

If he'd correctly guessed the woman's character, her angle leaned more heavily on the side of wile than on thorough interest. In his opinion, the woman's idea that she could use sex appeal to acquire a reprieve, on any level, for a son facing robbery charges was an example of why the brain matter beneath a blonde head was given such a bad rap. Still, observation had clued him in that she was not the sort of mother who was very open to traditional acts of affection, and she was certainly of a calculating nature, to willingly let _any_ of her children take the blame for that crime, just to better the survival chances of the Once-ler's developing company. Taking these character flaws into consideration, perhaps she should be condoned for trying anything at all, when it came to reducing the penalty Brett faced.*

The animals still felt extremely guilty about the bind they'd put the humans into. Although Brett and his twin brother Chet had been anything but mannerly toward them since they'd arrived in the forest, they'd never have intended to have either of them get into trouble like this. Even after the positive outcome of the meeting earlier that day, the impact of the consequences their actions had unleashed on the humans had the community largely downcast, despite the Lorax's matter-of-fact advice that they should not dwell on that which they had no control over, but should simply learn from what happened and carry on.

The closest thing to a bright side was that with the mother and one of her sons out of commission that day, a lot fewer trees had been felled than usual. Actually, although their work did not come to a complete stop, nearly everyone in the family who was still in the forest seemed inclined toward a "part-time" approach to their jobs right now.

Pipsqueak and the other children tried to take their minds off the sombre mood by playing with Uncle Lorax, but there was an irrepressible sense of hopelessness mixed with trepidation in all of them. Although one would think that learning more about the ways of humans would better enable them to come up with a feasible compromise, it seemed like at every twist and turn, they just made things worse. First, Pipsqueak's loss of temper over the trees being chopped had alarmed the Lorax so much that he forbade the animals from interacting with the humans at all, so as to keep them out of immediate danger. The goof-ups which had resulted from the animals' further attempts to sway the humans hadn't helped either – well, it did bring to notice that the Swomee swans' eggs were getting eaten, and got that brought to a quick close. There was that.

But now, looking at all that happened after they raided that bank last night... Pipsqueak almost didn't see the point in trying to learn any more; for all he knew their next strategy could cause that enormous RV to topple over and squish the humans all flat!

But alas, darkest hour is before the dawn, as they say. Gil inquired, after puzzling about it for a while, "Why did they have to go back to chopping the trees, anyway? I don't get what was wrong with what they were doing before."

"It wasn't fast enough for their liking," the Lorax answered. He explained to the children about the obvious inefficiencies behind their approach to harvesting tufts from live Truffulas. Many of the adults hanging around listened as well. For the first time that day, several of them smiled. To think the humans couldn't comprehend how easy it would be to speed up _that_ process! They could just climb up the trees and pluck the tufts out from close up, or even just keep the cart they loaded their gatherings into right by each tree as it was harvested! The animals may hardly be a group to talk, but really, such naivete was so absurd it was almost cute.

The Lorax grimly explained that the humans would still have to harvest a lot more slowly with live trees than with chopped ones, as care was needed to ensure that plucking the tufts would not damage the trees/leave them open to infection. And of course, as everyone had gathered by this point, it would be useless to try and drive it home to them that slowing down just a bit was a more sensible long-term plan, as it would not only leave the forest in tact, but also further the chance of their business surviving. It was a sound point, but it would just enter their auditory senses from one side and cruise on through to the other.

Suddenly, Gil glanced around, asking, "Hey, where'd Pipsqueak go?"

Knowing the cub had a somewhat problematic habit of getting distracted by sources of sudden intrigue – which his family gratefully noted had been happening a lot less as of lately, but was apparently not entirely outgrown yet – those around began to worry a bit. That was until a tuft from a tree tumbled down, almost as if by magic, and landed right over the Lorax's eyes.

"What the -"

Seconds later it was joined by a clump of pals.

"Pipsqueak's harvesting tufts," Bill pointed out as the Lorax removed the spontaneous garnishes from his person.

"Hey, Uncle Lorax!" The little cub called down, poking his head out from the fluffy tree top, "Is it okay to harvest the tufts faster if you don't actually pull them out?"

He went on to explain that he'd gotten the idea to slice the harvested tufts off just before, but not quite at the end of their stems. In doing this, he in fact managed to extract about ten times as many tufts as the humans had with the way they'd gone about it, when compared to the length of time taken, before remembering he was supposed to check ideas like this with the Lorax first.

Realization began to dawn on the other animals as they digested what the young Bar-ba-loot had just said. Smiles of caution transforming into relief spread like a contagion among them, but there was one last thing to confirm before this discovery could be acted on. With bated breath they turned toward the Lorax, awaiting his verdict.

The old being was quiet for what felt like quite a long time. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe he didn't think of that himself. A single Bar-ba-loot, even a youngster, _could_ in fact extract the Truffula tufts plentifully faster than the lazy approach the humans had taken, and Pipsqueak was indeed spot on; it so happened that _was_ a healthier and less risky way to manage harvesting from the trees.* The cub was a genius!

Beaming now, the forest guardian called up, "Pip, I think you might just get your Honourary Lorax back!"

Although the cub was still a bit unsure about that award, the eruption of excited cheers below him felt like one of the greatest rewards he could ever have asked for.

/

In the still of night, that night, the animals put their new plan into action. In order to save tomorrow's trees, they would need to spend tonight collecting a sufficient number of tufts to satisfy the next day's production of thneeds. They also wanted it to be a surprise for the Once-ler and his family; after all the trouble they'd been through, this ought to raise their spirits!

Melvin was also participating in this undertaking. He'd been understandably wary when approached with a request for his assistance, after the disaster and aftermath of the previous night, but upon hearing the Lorax's explanation and elaboration on what they were going to do, he decided he'd be officially on board.

As he was stronger than the animals native to the forest, Melvin's assignment was to push the cart around from tree to tree as they were harvested. The Lorax would supervise as the volunteering multitude of animals worked on the trees, while Bill's mother was given permission to lurk in the proximity of the humans' dwellings, so as to keep on the lookout.

After going over some designated signals with her, for use in the event that someone stirred or even stepped outside, the Lorax returned to the crowd and gave them a thumbs-up. All systems were go.

"They're all asleep now," the Lorax told everyone. The Once-ler's bedside lamp had been the last light to shut off, a few minutes ago. "Good thing; Beanpole needs the rest. The kid's been knitting like a maniac all evening!" he chuckled in a low voice.

"_Maniac_, huh?" One of the Humming fish grinned, as everyone got started. This inspired the fish to begin a round of humming the song, "Maniac" - which somehow proved an admirable match for the tone of the night's project.*

From there everyone worked well into the night, not even stopping when the contents they'd piled into the cart were brimming over. A few of them, with the Lorax's permission, went and retrieved a bunch of sacks from where the Once-ler kept them, and harvesting continued till those were overflowing as well.

The first rays of dawn were playing their early morning game of peekaboo when everyone was satisfied they'd done enough for this test bout. Now it was time to wait and see how the humans would react.

Trying to stifle the urge to yawn, an ostensibly sleepy-eyed Pipsqueak turned to the Lorax and asked, "So Uncle Lorax, if all goes well... can we please be allowed near the Once-ler again?"

The orange being considered this. Even if the animals promised to behave from now on, there was the concern of how the humans would act towards them. But then again, the Once-ler was always good to the animals, and they were fond of him. Maybe, just maybe he had been a bit overzealous, outlawing interaction between the animals and the humans altogether...

"We'll see how it goes, Pip," the Lorax ruffled the cub's forehead affectionately.

Okay, Pipsqueak could be content with that. In any case, he hoped that this new strategy would win the humans over because, honestly, he was more than done with these all-nighters.

**AN: So could this be it? Is the moment of truth just around the corner - or just around the chapter, if you will? I'm certainly getting a good feeling from this. All goes well, and the next chapter might just be able to wrap things up in a pretty parcel. In the meantime, those asterisks serving as beacons for clarification or background notes aren't going to account for themselves:  
**

**1\. Oh, what to do about Brett's ordeal? Though from a writer's perspective the task seems tricky, I do hope to be able to bring that to a positive closure by the end of the story.**

**2\. In the headcanon I've developed, this method of live-extraction has a sort of pruning effect on the trees.**

**3\. I felt I had to insert that part about the fish humming "Maniac" from _Flashdance_, because for some reason during periods of writer's block while working on this story, I've often found meditating to pictures of the Once-ler while playing this song and a few others in the background... _somehow_ encouraging. Plus, I've developed this habit of envisioning alternating shots of the Once-ler (from either adaptation) knitting, and the Truffula trees getting chopped, to the rhythm of the song's intro.  
**

**I can't thank all those who've reviewed/provided alternative feedback for this story, so far, enough. I'm _so_ excited to be almost finished! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**I must apologize for the month-long delay of this chapter. At first, there was merely the issue of making sure everything came together with all the loose ends tied up, but then as it began to hit me that this really is going to be the last chapter of this story, which has sort of defined an era for me in fan-writing, I suppose I just became a little hesitant to take the final plunge with it. Of course, that isn't fair to the dedicated readers of this fanfic, who've all been so supportive as it's progressed, so I must pull myself together and get on with it. Here at last, as I said, the animals' solution is unveiled to the Once-ler, and everything finally comes into focus for one and all.**

When morning came, the Once-ler was jolted awake by the sound of incessant rapping on his door. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he took a moment to assess the situation. Someone knocking on his door. Hmm. Even for a thneed, why would the customers come down here so early instead of waiting for him to go to town?

Now hearing what sounded like his uncle's voice calling to him, he blinked. Of course; his family was here, why would he overlook that? Yawning, he pulled himself out of bed, glancing wistfully at his alarm clock. He might as well put it away; in all the time he'd been in the forest it seemed that more often than not something did the job of awakening him before it had a chance.

Reaching up under his shirt and scratching at his ribcage, he stumbled over to the door, opening it to find Uncle Ubb staring up at him with wide eyes.

"We're in big trouble, nephew!" Ubb was stammering. "You gotta come quick!"

Recalling what happened the day before, the Once-ler felt certain his own ventral region was trying to give him lead poisoning. What had that orange meatloaf framed him for this time?

Before he could even ask, his uncle had grabbed his wrist and was leading him off in the direction of whatever this trouble was, all the while babbling about how it would be really bad for the business. Even as his sense of dread continued to replace the d and r with an l, the Once-ler couldn't help rolling his eyes and wishing his uncle would just tell him what the problem was.*

"They're gone! Every last one of 'em!" Ubb exclaimed, just before his nephew realized they'd come to a stop.

"What are -"

"The axes, boy! They're just plum gone – somebody's taken 'em!" Ubb's eyes were frantic. "How are we gonna keep choppin' the trees?"

The Once-ler blinked. Sure enough, he was being shown the usual spot where the axes were left to rest when not in use, and not a single one of them was in sight. So this was the Lorax's new angle, huh? Why didn't he do that yesterday, instead of nearly landing the Once-ler in a hoosegow?

"Well, I guess we could buy more," he sighed. He didn't want to put money out on that, but if they were to keep earning more, something would have to give.

At that moment, Melvin came galloping around the corner, braying as though in alarm. His master could barely ask what was the matter before he found his pajama shirt being tugged quite viciously.

"Melvin! Hey, knock it off – stop tearing my shirt!" Retrieving that corner and making sure it was still intact, he groaned over its spit-washed state and demanded, "What's gotten into you, anyway? Whoa – alright, take it easy! First Pipsqueak, now you..." he muttered as Melvin began shoving him from behind off to somewhere he deemed important.

Forced around the corner Melvin came from, the Once-ler was on the edge of his patience, when suddenly his attention was directed toward the rather bemusing sight of almost a week's worth of harvested Truffula tufts, all carted or bagged and at the ready. Lots of thneed-production there, but he didn't really understand why Melvin was so eager to show him this.

"Ta-da!" He was now definitely bemused by the sight of an array of the forest animals springing up theatrically from the voluminous heap of tufts in the cart. This preceded a very intricate performance, consisting of an excitedly sung announcement with the Humming fish serving as the lead chorus; the animals in the cart leaping or flying down to the ground in front and being joined by a myriad of others emerging from behind the bulging sacks. Artful though this all was, it didn't serve to explain anything to the befuddled human.

"Okay.. wow... this is _very_... - wait, are you guys supposed to be here?"

"Sure they are," a gravelly voice said. The Once-ler jumped, turning around and glancing downward to see the Lorax standing behind him. "It's their home, they can go anywhere they like!"

The Once-ler glared at the orange being. How could he smile like that, how could he be so casual after what happened yesterday? Setting him up to look like a thief, ultimately causing one of his brothers to get arrested, and only _after_ that trying the "mysteriously vanished axes" technique?

Composing himself, the man spoke firmly, "Alright look, I'm not gonna get mad, just tell me what you did with the axes -"

What with the animals being behind his line of vision at the moment, he did not see the trade of cheeky glances that ran amongst them. The Lorax, whom he was still facing, just smirked.

"The axes? Oh, you won't be seein' _them_ no more. Won't be needin'em either. From now on, you're gonna start learning to keep your promises, Beanpole."

"Ugh, how many times are we going to go over this!" the man groaned, his hand magnetically attracted to his forehead.

"Keep your shirt on, kid. You wanna go on sellin' your silly multi-functional pink scarves, that's fine by me."

The Once-ler was mockingly mouthing along with the Lorax, under the assumption that this lecture would follow the same basic script as the rest of them, but then it dawned on him that something was drastically off. "Wait – what?"

"Got your attention? _Thank_ heavens!" The forest guardian wiped his brow exaggeratedly, enjoying teasing the man as much as ever. "Now like I was saying, the reason you ain't gonna need the axes from now on is because there's a better way to harvest the trees."

"Oh, really? A better way, huh?" Pacing as though it were a ballet step, the Once-ler inquired, "And uh, just what might _be_ this magical 'better way', Moustache? Something involving your illustrious _powers_? No, no, wait. Lemme guess. It's something those _inexorable_ forces of nature came up with, right?"

"Watch it, kid," the Lorax said. The young man really had no idea, he was sure, but the overall authority of these forces was neither to be under nor overestimated.* Especially not jocularly. But on the other hand... "But you ain't far from the truth."

"Oh, sure... I'm not?" There he was, taken by surprise again.

Ignoring him now, the Lorax turned back to the crowd of animals and called out, "Pip, why don'tcha do the honours?"

"Sure thing, Uncle Lorax!" the young cub called, saluting him and scampering off to the nearest Truffula tree. He proceeded to snip and slice dozens of tufts off before half a minute had passed, then sent them all tumbling to the tree's base.

While Pipsqueak returned to the ground and joined the Lorax and the Once-ler, beaming with excitement, the forest guardian went on to explain to the human about how the animals had been trying to help figure out a compromise between the production of thneeds and the protection of the trees ever since the humans had reverted to chopping them down. The ringleader of this operation had been Pipsqueak, who'd also ultimately come up with the final plan.

"R-really?" The Once-ler asked in disbelief. He stared down at the adoring little cub like he was recalling him after a bout of amnesia. He had known the animals of the forest were clever, and had generally suspected they understood him, but he obviously never realized just how much they actually paid attention to what he said, or what he and his family were doing. Better still, he never guessed that they'd be genuinely interested in anything more complex than eating, sleeping or playing.

"Now, if you're interested, Beanpole, they all wanted to offer up their services," the Lorax told him.

"Services? You mean like, they gather from the trees, and let us focus on the rest?" Though he was still wrapping his mind around it, he found himself deeply touched. "They'd actually do that for me?"

"'Course they would. Here in the forest, we all pitch in and help one another. And with everyone workin' together it won't take up too much of anyone's time. So whaddya say?"

The Once-ler turned his gaze to the animals, all looking on with smiles of expectancy. He looked back at the Lorax, standing by to let him think it over as needed. Then he looked down at Pipsqueak, who was now hugging his left ankle. The little cub loved him – the animals all loved him enough that they actually would go to the trouble of determining a way to simultaneously improve his business and protect the trees. And on top of that, they were also willing to volunteer for his company, to make sure everything stayed balanced.

"Wow. Wow! Rowdy-dow!" Overwhelmed with joy, he snatched Pipsqueak up in his hands and twirled around, before drawing the cub in and nuzzling him lovingly. Although the cub was a bit windswept by the sudden action, a smile inevitably etched across his face at the end of it.*

Amidst the cheers of the animals, the Once-ler, still holding the cub, glanced around the corner and called out, "Uncle Ubb! Get Mom and the others over here! You're all gonna want to see this!"

/

It was like a dream come true, the way everything began to come together after that day. Though his family, unsurprisingly, found the animals' offer - not to mention the concept of their making the offer - incredulous, when the perks of this new approach to Step One of thneed production were laid out neatly before them it took no more to convince them to go along.

The Once-ler decided to make the maintenance of the Truffula tree population a priority of the company – better still, along with harvesting the animals could also be in charge of the growth and expansion of the forest. After all, if he was going to bigger his company in the years ahead, the forest it depended on had better bigger to keep up with it!

The Lorax was pleased that at last the Once-ler was taking a heartfelt interest in the preservation of the forest, even if it was primarily for the sake of his growing company. The animals had been completely right, he realized; rolling with the changes these humans brought about was a much better approach than simply trying to make them temper their activities without question. Listing the Once-ler's family among his charges was still a bit hard to get used to, but luckily the man told him they wouldn't be staying there for much longer; what was accumulating wealth for if you weren't going to have a rich, extravagant architectural dwelling in which to flaunt it?

It did not take overly long for the Once-ler to forgive the Lorax for that bank robbery incident, which he still believed had been a desperate setup on the guardian's part. When things started to go right he was always one to shrug off the woes of the past, and for a legendary, slightly annoying creature the Lorax was still rather gruffly endearing. Also, when his enterprise grew to the point that he possessed enough money and influence to buy his brother Brett's way out of prison, name conveniently cleared and everything, there really was no further need to hold a grudge; they'd come out on top after all!

The animals were delighted to have succeeded in saving their home, and also making things easier for the Once-ler and his family. Granted, there was a steady decrease in time available to spend with their human friend, for it turned out achieving a regular income equivalent to or surpassing what they'd fetched from the bank that night, in an honest way, took humans a tremendous amount of time and effort. Still, he did not let their participation go unrewarded; in the factory he built – not too close to the forest, but not too far away either – he ensured for them a spacious recreational room for their use as liked. It held all the things about the human world that they liked best; there was always a surplus amount of marshmallows and the other foods they enjoyed – and since he rarely had time to do it himself, he even employed for them a personal chef for those things, like pancakes, which needed to be cooked. Since he'd no longer need it, he gifted them his old wagon for their pleasure, and even moved in his old tent from his days of starting out, for old time's sake.

Pipsqueak found as time went on that being an honourary Lorax wasn't a bad thing at all; nor indeed was his position as the official mascot of Thneed, Inc. He actually kind of liked the black-banded green bow-tie he wore when playing the role; it matched the Once-ler's clothes to a tee. But what brought him the most joy through the years, was seeing his home continue to grow and thrive, the Lorax and the other animals secure and happy, their human friends getting what they wanted, watching as the Once-ler got married and raised a family with which to continue his legacy, and knowing that because of his care and determination, everyone he loved was able to really have it all.*

_And in no time at all, in the forest that grew,_

_And the factory that was built,_

_The whole Once-ler family and forest community_

_Were working full tilt._

**The end.**

**AN: Well, there we have it. Now I can finally say, "All's well that ends well." Now, if you'll permit me a moment to dab my eyes a bit, I shall as ever get on and explain what's behind those asterisks:  
**

**1\. I've long been intrigued by this; that although Uncle Ubb seems about as affectionate as that family gets, the Once-ler all but ignores him most of the time. He doesn't even greet him when the family arrives, though he greets his mother and Aunt Grizelda, and he recoils when his uncle hugs him!**

**2\. The way I perceive it, although the Lorax and those forces of nature hold a degree of power beyond what a human could comprehend, they are still just as much in service to the Divine as mortals are.**

**3\. The Once-ler's thank-you hug for Pipsqueak, and Pipsqueak's reaction, is inspired by that scene when the Once-ler's mother hugs him through the window. Just one of those subtle little things I thought might run in that descent line.**

**4\. Seeing as "Maniac", from _Flashdance_, was referenced in the last chapter, I felt it only right that the concluding line of the final paragraph to this story should reference "Flashdance... What a Feeling", also from that film.**

**And now, once more, I shall extend my deepest gratitude to Sixty-four K, Bellechat, and everyone else who's followed this story. Thank you all for keeping me inspired, even in those times when the writing got tough! ;)**


End file.
